Shy Ones
by Cora-DragonSoul
Summary: It's always the shy ones that are hiding something unexpected - Fraxus drabble.
Laxus took a deep breath as he entered the coffee shop, relaxing in the familiar smell of the place. He had been so busy at his MMA gym today, he was glad for the break. Evergreen followed him in, chatting incessantly about something. As usual, she didn't actually require him to listen, she just liked to talk. Instead, he focussed his attention on which baristas were working today; he knew all their names by now. If his memory was correct...

"Yo, Bixlow!" Laxus called out to one of the baristas with a purple mini-hawk, who seemed to be heading into the back room.

"Hey, Laxus. Just running a chore. I'll be back to chat in a second. Freed! Can you help Laxus four me? Thanks!" He disappeared through the side door and Laxus came face to face with Freed.

Freed wouldn't meet his eyes, instead choosing to stare downwards at the cash register and murmuring out a "What can I get for you?"

Laxus couldn't figure out this guy. He didn't seem like an overly shy guy with Bixlow and Mira, but Laxus couldn't get a proper conversation out of him. He frowned slightly as he gave his answer.

"I dunno. Somethin' large and strong. You're always a good judge; you pick."

Freed's long, green ponytail bobbed as he nodded, tapping at the machine.

"An-and your… ah… girlfriend?"

Laxus couldn't help but looked confused. Girlfriend? What girlfriend? The only girl who was ever with him was… oh. His confusion instantly faded and he snorted.

"Ever? She ain't my girlfriend. She's the manager of my gym. Old friend, even if she's as annoying as hell." Ever's voice sounded faint behind him and she defended herself with "I can hear you, moron!" He ignored her. He was more interested in the surprise showing on the face in front of him. And was that relief?

"Anyway, she'll have a chai whatever." Again, she chimed in, correcting the order. Laxus continued to not pay any attention.

* * *

From the backroom, Bixlow and Mra peeked around the doorframe, watching their friend. Bixlow was ready to pull his mohawk out.

"Seriously, Freed? Speak up! Ask for his number! Do something!"

His best friend had been crushing on the big blonde MMA fighter for months but was yet to make a move due to nerves.

"Come on, Freed! You can do it!" Mira, the coffee shop's owner, was cheering Freed on next to him. "Bix, you're going to have to help him."

Bixlow sighed. She was right. Freed had stalled and had moved off to make drinks. Idiot. So, grabbing the box he had headed to get in the first place, he strode back out to the front.

"So, Lax, been working hard?"

"Call me 'Lax' again, Bixlow, and I'll break your smug neck."

Bixlow chuckled, unfazed by the threats. It was pretty normal coming from Laxus. The guy tried to act tough. They knew better.

"Oh, Bix, you've been interested in seeing the gym, right?"

Excitement surged, all thoughts of supporting his friend's flirting, forgotten. "Hell yeah!"

All three of them were MMA fans, Mira included, and he'd been looking for somewhere new to train since he'd moved to Magnolia. Suddenly, however, he froze, a mischievous thought popping into his head. He might lose his life for this.

"Hey Laxus, you should invite Freed as well!"

He saw his friend freeze in his work cleaning the coffee machine, the drinks finished.

Laxus raised an eyebrow, looking between the two.

"He's into it too?" He finally asked, unable to get Freed to meet his eye.

Bixlow nodded enthusiastically. Freed was fuming, but on the other hand, Laxus had taken extra notice. It wasn't a bad trade off. His friend would thank him for it eventually. "He may not look like it, but he's one of the best kickboxers I've ever met! Brutal."

Out of the corner of his eye, Bixlow saw Freed move to grab the sharpest knife he could reach. _Oh shit_. He didn't have time to react, in the blink of an eye, and with a graceful spin, the blade was at Bixlow's throat.

Freed was looking at him directly, all traces of shyness gone, eyes hard and annoyed.

"I'm also trained with weapons, Bix, so I suggest you butt out."

Bixlow offered the other man a nervous, lop-sided grin, as if in apology. The cold feeling went away as the knife was returned to its proper place and he watched Freed storm off towards the back.

"Drinks are up." He shot over his shoulder, venom dripping from his voice.

Bixlow shuddered. He was going to die in his sleep sometime this week. Once the green hair had finished whipping around the corner, Bixlow returned his attention to the blonde man still at the counter. Immediately, his opinion of the situation changed. Yeah, totally worth it.

Laxus' face was an amusing mixture of shock, awe and… something else. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times before he finally breathed; "That… was fucking hot."

Bixlow couldn't help but grin. "What was that, Laxus?"

Sharp, orange eyes focused on him. "What?"

"Dude, you just called Freed hot."

There was a pause.

"And if you tell anyone, I will snap you in half."

His grin widened.


End file.
